Sacrifices and Jogging Routes
by RebelzHeart
Summary: Uraraka thinks through what it means to be a hero. Oneshot


Uraraka wakes at six to work on a project (she works best in early morning and late at night) and when she goes down to the common room, Deku is already there, stretching and going through the motions with practiced ease.

It's early, but considering the time of year, late spring, the common room is already as bright as it would be in the afternoon. The sun filters in with a sleepy sort of warmth, dust lit by the sun and drifting lazily like a glass bottle in the ocean's current. The lighting makes everything look soft, pale traces of white lighting the edges of the coffee table and sofas as Uraraka sits down on the couch. It sinks neatly under her weight, swallowing the lower bits of her thighs and creaking ever so slightly.

This catches Deku's attention, who looks over and smiles at her. "The analysis presentation on business plans for up-and-coming heroes?" He asks, mind quickly filtering and understanding the situation.

He's at ease, leaning over to press his palms to the floor, legs straight and then he raises his arms to stretch to the sky.

Uraraka watches him with a small smile on her lips.

"Just going through the financial distribution for advertising," Uraraka explains. "I didn't think it was that important, but, well," she gives a breathy little laugh, "Heroes aren't just there to stop crime, you know? They're also there to inspire hope, and they can't do that if nobody knows who they are!"

"It's really cool!" Deku agrees brightly, "For example, heroes such as Aizawa-sensei, underground heroes, have to _actively_ pay news companies at first to stop them from reporting on their crimes... or, a lot of the time, with established news companies that understand the need for secrecy, they have to hire someone to help them come up with a cover story, if it's a well known villain or... ah," he glances at the clock and smiles apologetically at Uraraka. "Sorry, Uraraka-chan! I have to go for my jog now. Want to come?"

"It's okay, Deku!" Uraraka smiles, "I've got to work on my homework. Maybe some other time?"

Deku beams, his entire face lighting up in excitement, "Yeah!" He agrees eagerly. "Some other time!"

"It's a promise!" Uraraka laughs.

Deku smiles back at her and he's gone, the floorboards creaking under his feet as he bounces to the door, smiling to himself even as he puts his earbuds in and whispering in wonder to himself _some other time_ , as though he is amazed that a friend would want to jog with him.

Which... well, Uraraka can understand. Nothing against Deku, of course, merely that the rumors about his training regimen make it sound quite... well... insane.

But that's Deku for you. And this school, too! Plus Ultra!

Ah, but she has to think of that some other time, Uraraka chides herself as the door clicks behind Deku, the sound softened as he turns the knob before closing it. She turns on her laptop and it hums to life, pale blue light filtering and the screen pale against the brightness of the sun through the window.

 _Homework first_ , she thinks, and soon the common room is silent but for the soft sounds of her fingers tapping against the laptop and her humming an old piano song as she researches the financial distribution for hero agencies.

* * *

The classroom is a roar, a beast of noise as the students chatter with each other. Todoroki and Momo chat about the previous day's lesson, Midoriya muttering to himself an analysis of the situation that he's presenting, perhaps his original intent being to practice his slideshow but it seems that has quickly been forgotten as he jogs on the spot and delves into other branches of interest.

Iida is making the final touches on his presentation for Monday despite the fact that he has an entire weekend to work on it, and he's still working when Uraraka bounces into the room and makes her way to peer at his presentation over his shoulder.

She tucks her chin onto his head and chirps brightly, "Wow, Iida! It looks amazing!"

Iida, flustered, accidentally knocks the side of his glasses against Uraraka's neck and they have a bit of a moment where Uraraka rears back, clutching her throat and Iida dissolves into apologies and ninety degree bows. It's all very dramatic, and Uraraka would laugh if she weren't choking.

When she comes back up, and reassures Iida that she's fine, Aizawa-sensei has come into the room and he sighs at all of them.

"Down you go," He says, waving a hand and resting his chin on his other, eyes half lidded and hair dangling in his eyes. A lock of hair curls between his fingers, dipping ever so slightly over the back of his hand, nearly reaching his wrist before curling back up to the spot between his fourth finger and his pinky.

Uraraka concentrates on that, too used to the bags under Aizawa-sensei's eyes to be distracted by those.

"Okay, so," Aizawa leans back a bit, curling his fingers under his desk to support his weight, "We're going to be talking about the Drumstick incident from a few years ago with Thirteen and Apparition. Anyone... _other than Midoriya_... know about it?"

Uraraka presses a finger against her lips.

Thirteen, the rescue hero? She supposes that she'll have to pay _special_ attention during this lesson, then!

But Apparition... she ought to know that hero... it's niggling in the back of her head but she can't...

Momo's hand shoots in the air, and Aizawa sighs before pointing dutifully at her. "Apparition and Thirteen were cleaning out after the events of a villain caused earthquake when Apparition was killed by a loose piece of rubble."

A gasp escapes Uraraka's lips before she can hold it back, and she presses two hands to her mouth even as the class begins to stir, murmurs and panicked whispers about today's lessons floating around. The world spins around Uraraka and she looks down, feeling uneasy.

Aizawa coughs, and the world settles back in place, firm and _normal_.

"Yes," he agrees, "I'll be showing some footage of the incident."

(He doesn't say anything like _if you feel uneasy, please leave the room_ because they are going to become heroes, and a hero that can't handle death is better off just quitting the industry. They all know what the job will entail, the bodies they won't save that will haunt them, and all of the class knows that if they cannot shrug it off and smile anyway, they are not fit to be heroes. The fact that he prefaces by telling them that he'll show footage is more than warning enough.)

It's fairly standard, Thirteen sucking in the rubble and Apparition touching the people. His quirk lets them teleport to a spot roughly five meters away, where they can run away themselves or, in the case of the injured, be safe from falling rubble.

Then there's a mistake.

Thirteen sucks in something and there's a piece of rubble dislodged but they don't see it and a warning sits on Uraraka's lips though she already knows what the outcome will be and...

Apparition reaches out to touch someone and the rubble falls.

But.

He _sees it_.

Apparition's arms reach up and he catches, but his arms buckle under the weight and when the second piece falls, Apparition is not strong enough and...

Uraraka suppresses her flinch when Apparition's arm is cut off by the rubble and sent flying.

Thirteen lets out a wordless scream on the screen and the child who Apparition was trying to reach has their head also buried by the rubble, bits of their body...

Uraraka has forgotten that rescue heroes had to deal with things like this, too.

(This changes nothing, though. She understands that it's her duty to save people from fates like this, if she can, she _must_ try her best to help.)

"What did Thirteen do wrong?" Aizawa-sensei's voice is cold, clinical, as though he feels nothing (which Uraraka knows isn't true, because when the video played, despite everything, Aizawa kept his eyes on the class, something akin to worry flickering over his features).

Analysis, then.

Unsurprisingly, it's Midoriya's hand that shoots up in the air.

"He didn't calculate the most efficient way to dislodge the rubble," Midoriya says, "And thus, he caused the rubble to fall."

In other words, Thirteen was partially responsible for Apparition's death.

Uraraka feels sick. How must it feel to feel that sort of guilt?

( _I don't want that,_ some small, selfish part on the back of her head thinks, _if that's what it means to be a hero_... but she cannot afford that way of thinking. Thirteen saved lives, and though this one undoubtedly haunts him, he cannot stop, lest more die because he stood by and did nothing.)

"Correct," Aizawa-sensei goes into a more detailed explanation and offers them tips on how to avoid this in the future, all of which Uraraka writes down in detail, rapt in attention because _she does not want to make that mistake, never, never, never..._ "And what did Apparition do wrong?"

 _Do not speak ill of the dead_ , is on Uraraka's tongue, but she cannot say that. This is for their benefit. Their's, and those that will be saved by them.

The class is silent.

Aizawa-sensei stares at them.

They have no answer.

They cannot think of one.

Midoriya is muttering.

When he is done, he raises his hand and looks Aizawa clear in the eye.

"He should have saved the boy." Midoriya says quietly. His words are deafening in the silence of the classroom. You could hear a pin drop. "After that piece of rubble fell, there was nothing he could have done to stop it. And he would have died sooner... but he could have touched the boy with his foot or something to teleport him away."

"Wrong," Aizawa-sensei says.

"There was nothing else that he could have done," Midoriya says. His brow furrows, though, and he asks, "What could he have done?"

"He could have dropped the rubble," Aizawa-sensei says, "And saved his own life."

Momo's brow is furrowed, "At the expense of the boy's."

"But Apparition would have been able to save the lives of many more. The cost of that boy's life for many others."

Uraraka's blood runs cold, "You can't weigh lives like that," she hears herself say, horrified and soft.

Aizawa-sensei turns to look at her. He is not using his quirk, but his eyes look cold all the same, burning as they turn to her, "It is the hero's duty to save as many lives as possible. That boy dies, in either scenario. It is the hero's duty to make these decisions. In his case, Apparition assumed that he could support the weight of the rubble."

"But he was able to!" Iida says, an unusual protest from the typically straight-laced student, "Apparition held it up until another piece of rubble dropped down..."

"Apparition was too weak to hold it up," Aizawa-sensei says. His voice is soft, regretful, "He put too much stock in his quirk and never trained himself physically. That was his greatest flaw and got him in trouble more than once. This time, it just happened to be what did him in."

Silence falls over the class.

And then Uraraka asks, hand in the air, "Then did Apparition cause his own death?"

The class stares at her, eyes wide.

But Uraraka has to know.

She's in Apparition's shoes.

She is training her quirk, but not her body. Her body, she trains what they are told to in class, but no more. She focuses on her quirk. If she dies because of that, is it her fault?

"The question is not if Apparition caused it," Aizawa-sensei answers. "Many things caused it. The villain with the earthquake. That boy's location. Thirteen's mistake. Apparition's mistake. The question is, how could he have stopped it, and would it have been the right decision?"

The question hangs over the air like a weight.

Aizawa-sensei gives them a moment for that to sink in, and then he turns back to the board. "So, related to this topic is the trolley question. This is a moral dilemma discussed by many. The premise is..."

* * *

This is not an answer.

Uraraka knows that it isn't. It is nowhere _near_ an answer.

And yet, this is the only solution she knows. She will figure out the rest later. Later, she will talk to Aizawa-sensei. Later, she will think about what it means to choose yourself for the greater good. Where the line between selfish and selfless blurs, when you are a hero and you have a duty. But right now...

"Deku," She waits for Deku at 6 a.m. when he bounces down the stairs, iPod in hand and earbuds hanging from his shirt collar, "Let me train with you."

But right now, she distracts herself with this.

He looks a bit surprised and a bit pleased, his smile crooked but sweet, curls soft as he beams at her and chirps, "Okay! What kind of goal do you have?"

Uraraka starts a bit at that. She hadn't thought so far, and she gives a bit of a self depreciating smile as she rubs the back of her head and laughs airily, "Ah, I forgot to think about that! Right now..." The smile slides off her face, though she wants it to stay, and she looks at her hands. Her fingers (soft on the back, calloused on the palms) curl into her palm and she makes a fist, eyes narrowing. "I want to get stronger."

There is something in Deku's eyes, understanding and sharp and pained all the same, and he nods, a fire in his eyes that Uraraka has always admired. "Of course," he says, steel and brimstone in his voice, and Uraraka thinks _of course you do_.

Deku, who is willing to do anything (who will break his own body, over and over and _over_ ) if he can save others, is the epitome of this feeling in her gut, to be stronger, to be better.

 _Plus Ultra._

"Let's go through stretches first," Deku smiles at her, and Uraraka nods, determination slating her mouth into a firm line. "Okay, so first things first, you're going to want to push yourself but it's stupid to."

Uraraka blinks at him.

Okay.

She'll be honest.

Deku saying this? "A bit hypocritical of you to say, don't you think?" She asks, lips curling into an amused smile.

Deku sighs, "When I first started training... I did extra training and strayed from my schedule. It got me fast results but it also strained my muscles. I nearly put myself out of commission for a week by pushing myself too far, and I don't want you to get hurt like that, too."

Uraraka nods. If _Deku_ is telling her not to go too far, she'd better be careful.

"Actually, since I don't want you to push yourself..." Deku strokes his chin thoughtfully, "Hm. Today we'll go a bit slower."

"Oh, Deku, I don't want you to hold yourself back because of me!" Uraraka protests.

"It's not holding myself back," Deku smiles at her, "It's good to rest your muscles. Today, we'll just go a bit slower, that's all."

Uraraka nods and dips into a bow, "Thank you!" She says instead of an apology. Apologies are empty. Gratefulness, though, goes much further.

"Yes, well," Deku rubs the back of his neck and smiles shyly at Uraraka, "It's, uh, nice to have a friend with me in the mornings."

Uraraka beams at him and Deku smiles back.

* * *

 _It'll be fine_ , Uraraka had thought.

 _Deku's going easy today,_ Uraraka had thought.

 _Just a little jog,_ Uraraka had thought.

"I'm... dying..." Uraraka groans.

"Only two more kilometers!" Deku urges her on.

"We've run... how many?"

"Only three!" He smiles at her.

Uraraka is tired. Exhausted. On the brink of death. And there is only one thing that she knows for sure, through the burning in her legs.

"I am _so_ out of shape," Uraraka groans.

* * *

"What do you think of the question that Aizawa-sensei gave us?" Uraraka asks Tsuyu as they eat a snack, "I mean, the trolley problem."

Tsuyu sits up straight on the kitchen counter, back like a board and yet looking as relaxed as ever. Her legs dangle over the edge, toes far from the ground as they dip against the drawers, swinging back and forth like a pendulum as she thinks about it. "We are heroes," she says simply. "Sometimes that means making sacrifices."

Uraraka stares at her snack, a neat little bowl of baked banana slices with homemade strawberry jam over them. They taste like a solid smoothie, and when she washes it down with milk, it feels like she's in heaven. Uraraka runs a finger along the rim of her bowl, eyes fixed on her finger as it makes those little circles, round and round. "But what about when that sacrifice is a human life?"

Tsuyu makes a little humming noise in the back of her throat.

She spoons a scoop of the banana and strawberry jam concoction, having mashed up all her banana and making a weird slush textured thing. Her bowl, small and white with a blue border and painted sapphire rabbit outlines, looks delicate and tiny in her hands and wide fingers.

Tsuyu is thinking of it, and Uraraka can respect that. Tsuyu is smart, taking the time to think out her answer before speaking. Unlike the rest of the class, Tsuyu is rarely impulsive when it comes to speaking. _Actions, I can fix,_ Tsuyu says to Uraraka when she's asked about it, _I can change. But if I say the wrong thing to someone or give them the wrong advice, and_ they _do something wrong, then I'm to blame_.

Uraraka only understands it in a twisted, illogical sort of way.

"And you think that if you don't sacrifice them, if you sacrifice yourself instead, then it's not as big of a deal?" Tsuyu asks softly. Her words are careful, measured, not meant to be accusing but rather to invoke thought and caution.

Uraraka takes a moment to think it through, staring at her fingers. She presses a hand to the kitchen counter, and the marbled surface is cool between her fingertips. Uraraka thinks of the rubble, falling on Apparition's head, thinks of how it was made of something similar to this, and then she says quietly, "But that's a hero's duty, isn't it? To save others. Even if it means..." Her breath lodges itself in her throat.

 _Even if it means sacrificing yourself_.

Tsuyu sighs at her, a loud puff of air, annoyance but amusement and fondness in the sound. "You're thinking just like Midoriya," she chides Uraraka with a shake of her head.

Uraraka blinks. She must look like an owl right now.

"And that is... wrong?"

"Yes!"

"Oh."

Uraraka is confused.

Tsuyu puts the bowl in her hands onto the counter and it settles with a little _clink_ , the bowl rolling around and making an awful scraping sound against the bowl's rim before coming to a stop. Tsuyu hops off the counter with enviable grace, her landing soft and silent before she makes her way over to Uraraka.

"If you die," Tsuyu reprimands Uraraka, "Then what happens?"

The spoon in Uraraka's fingers falls away. She's activated her quirk, though, so it floats between them, wobbly with the banana, trying to balance the jam even though Uraraka no longer holds it in her hands. "My parents will be sad?" She says. It's the obvious answer, and judging by the throaty growl that Tsuyu makes, not the right one.

"And then?" Tsuyu prompts when Uraraka's trying to puzzle it through.

"All my classmates will be sad?" Uraraka asks hesitantly.

Tsuyu clicks her tongue against her teeth, "Think bigger!"

Uraraka runs her fingers through her hair and frowns, "I don't know, Tsuyu-chan!" She surrenders, "What am I supposed to say here?"

"There will be one less hero in the world!" Tsuyu claps her hands on the table and Uraraka's spoon falls to the table with a sharp _plink_ , banana falling off and jam splattering over the table. "You are a future _hero_ , Ochako-chan! When you die, there will be one last hero in the world, and what do heroes do?"

Uraraka's heart races, "They save people," she whispers.

"And can a dead hero save people?" Tsuyu demands.

Uraraka cannot respond. Her heart sits in her throat, beating too loud the sounds of a drum in her ears.

" _Can a dead hero save people_?" Tsuyu repeats, her voice loud and firm and _she needs an answer_.

"No!" Uraraka gasps, pressing her hands to a chest.

"So what do you, a hero, try your best to do?"

" _Save people_."

"And what do you have to do to do that?"

"Work harder!"

Tsuyu groans. She offers Uraraka a flat look, " _And_?"

Uraraka fidgets. Swipes a thumb against her nose, eyes lowered, and then closes her eyes and breathes.

In.

Out.

When she opens her eyes, she knows what is inside them. It's what's in Deku's eyes, Todoroki's and Momo's and all her classmates that want to be heroes. Fire and brimstone and determination. "Stay alive," her voice is the ocean and the tide and the tsunami as it sweeps over the shore.

"Yes," Tsuyu leans back, a satisfied smile on her lips. "You're a hero, Ochako-chan. Don't forget, that means that when you die, all the people that you could have saved die with you."

Uraraka presses a hand to her chest and makes a fist, some of her shirt closed between her fingers and scrunching up in that area. "It's such a big burden," she gasps.

Tsuyu nods, "And nobody knows that more than the number one hero."

She understands now. The weight in Deku's eyes when he makes a fist and says _I'm going to be the number one hero_ , when he says, _I'm going to smile and save everyone_ , she sees the weight and the power and it makes her shake (in anticipation or fear, she has no idea. It's so... so _big_ ).

"Thank you," Uraraka says quietly. A bit awed.

Tsuyu shrugs, and everything falls back in place, normal once again. "Anytime, Ochako-chan. You need to clean up your jam, now."

"Ah, right," Uraraka looks around for a paper towel, "What a waste of banana..."

(In the back of her mind rings, over and over, _you need to be stronger_. And she understands what they mean when heroes say _Plus Ultra_ because that is the hero's duty, to go above and beyond.)

* * *

"Uraraka-chan," Deku asks hesitantly as they go through their arm exercises. It's a Tuesday, which means Arm Day, and Uraraka's shoulders started burning around five minutes in (but she loves it). "If it's not too much to ask..."

"It's not," she reassures him through quick, precise breaths. ( _In through the nose, out through the mouth, quick, short, in through the nose, long and slow and then short, quick through the mouth..._ )

Deku smiles a bit. "I haven't even asked yet," he points out.

"Deku is Deku," Uraraka would shrug if her arms weren't busy trying to wrench their way off her torso, "You wouldn't ask something that I didn't want to answer."

"Okay, well," Deku shifts his toes a bit, which is basically all that he can afford to do, considering his arms, "Why did you decide to join me?"

Uraraka raises an eyebrow, "That's it? Well, you know," she grins, "I wanted to get stronger. Plus Ultra!" (It feels _so_ weird, saying that without adding the air punch afterwards.)

"Yes, but," And now Deku is even more hesitant, wondering if he's overstepping his boundaries, and Uraraka just wants to _hug him_ (but she can't, because she's pretty sure that if she stopped her arm workout now she'd just never start again). "Why did you want to get stronger?"

"Oh," And suddenly Uraraka is aware of the noise around them, the faint hum in the air, the sound of Deku's breathing, the creak of the floorboards and beds above them. "Well, after watching the footage with Apparition..."

Deku makes a soft, aborted noise.

Uraraka opts to ignore it, "I just figured, I had to do all that I could to be a better hero. To not..." She swallows, throat bobbing, and some sweat traces her cheeks, drips to her chin and down her neck. She is painfully aware of it's touch as it comes to a stop on her collarbone and resists the urge to wipe it away, "Yeah. You know."

"Oh," Deku breathes it, less a word and more a subdued sigh. "Right." He says the word apologetically, and it sits on his lips rather than in the air between them, like it's stuck to his throat even though he has said it.

"It's okay, though," Uraraka smiles a stupid, plastic little smile at Deku, "I want to be a hero. And if that means..." her voice wobbles, "If that means I never really retire, then so be it."

Deku keeps his gaze on her, but somehow Uraraka gets the impression that he's not really seeing her. His eyes are blank but his brow is furrowed, like he's just realized something. He doesn't say anything, though, just offers her a smile when he's gathered his energy to, and says, subdued, "That's very admirable."

He says it like a lie, and Uraraka holds back the accusation of _hypocrite_ that sits on her tongue.

"See you later," she says instead, and she means to chirp it but it comes out a mumble.

 _But breakfast_ , she sees Deku think.

He says nothing, and the silence hurts more than Uraraka imagines dying to be.

* * *

"I guess," Iida says after a visit to his brother. His head is bowed as he sits on the edge of his bed, a strange, rare moment where his posture isn't perfect and he doesn't look like an android. He looks vulnerable and terrifyingly human, one squared hand over his mouth and the tip of his nose red, hair falling over his face like a poor attempt at a shield, "I guess it's just hard to remember that heroes aren't immortal or untouchable. It's hard to remember that heroes, too, get hurt... and..." he laughs, a stilted, echo of a thing, "And they're more likely to get hurt, aren't they? Because..." his voice shakes, "Because of their careers."

What.

What does Uraraka say?

What _can_ Uraraka say, after Iida says something like that?

She isn't sure there's anything that she _can_ say or do or...

"He's still alive," she says quietly. The words feel like plastic in her mouth, pointless and ridiculous.

"He's paralyzed from waist down," Iida says. His fingers curl over his cheeks, making soft indents, and one leg starts to bounce. He looks so oddly vulnerable in casual clothing, with plaid shorts and a plain black t-shirt with _U. A._ _High_ in jagged white that Kaminari gave him. "I can't... I can't even _begin_ to imagine what life would be like without the use of my legs."

 _Hard_ , Uraraka thinks, shuddering at the thought.

"We're heroes," she says instead, simply, quietly.

It's hard to be excited about becoming a hero... every child's dream, what everyone idolizes... when you know the likely outcome. An early death. Casualties. Most of her friends will die before her (or, if she is one of the unlucky... or perhaps, lucky, it depends on how you perceive it... ones...) or she will be dead before they've even begun to sport wrinkles.

It's so painfully unfair.

(And yet, this is the dream life, isn't it? High pay, children idolizing you, action figures of you sold in stores, a glorious life even if brief. What kind of twisted society do they live in, Uraraka wonders, that children all desire a career that will likely kill them?)

"I know," Iida says. He rests his elbows ( _strong, stocky elbows, holding up weights like nothing_ ) on his legs ( _fast legs, taking down giant robots with a single kick_ ) and buries his face in his hands ( _his glasses dislodge and are pushed up by his fingers_ ). His voice cracks and Uraraka tries not to look away as Iida becomes horribly vulnerable, "I know," he repeats.

It sounds like a mantra.

Words before death.

 _I know_.

 _I knew._

 _We know what will happen_.

And yet they have chosen this path, all the same.

Uraraka bites down a hysteric laugh. _What a world we live in_.

"Do you think it's worth it?" She asks quietly, sitting down next to Iida.

"Dying?" His voice shakes, and Uraraka feels so young and childish, all of five years old and terrified of the dark. "Do I think that being a hero is worth dying?"

Uraraka casts a glance at the door to Iida's room and is grateful to find it closed. She doesn't know what she would do if someone saw them, like this, ripping at the seams and questioning everything. "Silly question, huh," she laughs to herself. _Idiot_.

"Then you're a martyr, aren't you?" Iida asks quietly.

"Being a hero..." Uraraka says, "Is putting the world before yourself." She already knows Iida's answer, but he says it anyways.

"Being a hero is worth anything that could happen to me," Iida tips his head back, closes his eyes. His breath hitches, "I don't want to die, though."

It's so childish.

Small.

Uraraka thinks of being five.

Of being afraid of the dark.

Remembers thinking _heroes fear nothing_.

"You shouldn't want to die," Uraraka laughs. It sounds fake, even to her own ears, a pathetic attempt at comfort, "Just be willing."

Iida breathes in.

Out.

Uraraka watches the rise of his chest, the fall of his chin as it dips down and presses against his collarbones.

"When something happens..." Iida says, quietly. His hand moves from his mouth, from his face, and down in the air in front of him. Iida stares at his hands, stares at the callouses and the bumps and the firm spots and the little scars on his skin. "When something bad happens, and you can stop it because of your quirk, but you _don't_ stop it..." Uraraka stares at his face intently, "Then it's your fault, isn't it?"

Uraraka looks away. She can't bear to look at Iida, not when he says things like that, such heroic and pure things.

"Wow, Iida," she laughs. Still false, ringing in her ears, "You sounded so cool!"

"I didn't mean to," Iida is still serious. His voice compels her to look at him, and when she does, his eyes are fixed on her's, grave and full of weight, "But we are heroes. We have a duty."

Uraraka swallows. "We aren't heroes yet," she whispers.

Iida's eyes pierce her's, "Aren't we?" He asks, an edge of his lips turning upwards.

Uraraka's chest feels heavy and she has no answer to give him.

* * *

"Why is it," Uraraka asks Deku as they're jogging, "That you kept breaking your bones over and over even though you knew what would have happened whenever you used your quirk?"

"Well, um," Deku blinks at her, "I mean, I tried to avoid using it."

"But you still used it a lot," Uraraka points out. "When you protected me from the zero pointed, you broke your arm, remember? You didn't have to do that. Why did you do that?"

"What do you mean?" Deku's brow furrows, "Of course I had to. There was no other choice."

Uraraka shakes her head, "No, there was. You could have just left or something, you didn't have to punch the zero pointer or anything like that. Or you could have moved the rubble that I was under or something, right?"

"No, I couldn't have," Deku blinks, "Even if I moved the rubble, we would then _both_ be in danger, and if I didn't punch it, you would have gotten hurt."

"But they were options," Uraraka insists.

That stubborn, firm expression crosses Deku's face, the one that always comes onto his face when he's about to say something that's stupidly heroic or that he refuses to budge on (typically, it's both). "No. Not saving someone when you can... not stopping something from hurting someone when you can... that is never, _ever_ an option."

Uraraka's voice sticks in her throat, but somehow she still says, almost wistfully, "You're so heroic, Deku."

"No, um," Deku turns bright red, "I'm really not."

Uraraka laughs, "It's like... like you were _created_ to be a hero. Like that's your sole purpose."

Deku's ears are glowing pink now, and he ducks down his head to hide his smile as he says, "Thank you, Uraraka-chan."

She can't bear to tell him that it wasn't a compliment, she says it out of something closer to jealousy, really, jealousy that she cannot be so pure and kind and heroic. "Why is there no choice?" she asks quietly. "No choice but to protect others, I mean."

Deku looks honestly confused at the question, quickly becoming even more flustered as he thinks about it. He reaches up a hand to scratch his cheek and mumbles, "I mean... well..." he smiles awkwardly at her, "I don't really have a straight answer to that but it's just..." He sort of shrugs at her, "We're heroes, you know?"

It's a wishy washy answer.

Lackluster.

Barely even qualifies, really. Deku's answer makes absolutely no sense.

But all the same, Uraraka thinks that she understands, at least a bit, what Deku means.

* * *

"I don't totally get it," Uraraka says to Todoroki. She swings her legs back and forth, watching them as the backs of her ankles knock against her dresser.

Todoroki is sitting primly on her bed, back straight and hands folded neatly in his lap. Even in his muted yellow turtleneck and black dress pants, he looks the perfect gentleman.

"I mean, it's more just like a feeling, you know?" She sounds like an idiot, Uraraka internally groans, even as she knocks a hand against her chest. "I don't really understand why I want to be a hero or why I've got to make certain sacrifices but it's just... I just feel it in my heart, you know?"

The words are hesitant at the end, a jumble of confusion and vague uncertainties, but Todoroki nods all the same.

"No, I..." his words are halting but firm, "I understand. It's like my fire. I don't completely understand why it's mine or how it's different from my father's, I just know. And I'm learning..." he's turning red, but forges on, "I'm learning."

Uraraka nods.

Todoroki smiles at her.

She smiles back.

"Being a hero ain't so bad, is it?" She sighs, half a laugh, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

Todoroki's expression softens, "No," he agrees, "not so bad at all."

Indeed.

Maybe this job will kill her.

Maybe it will mean her end.

But Uraraka is a hero, and she has no choice but to save people, see?


End file.
